


Entertainment

by gildedfrost



Series: Blue Light [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Chastity (mentioned), Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Fisting (mentioned), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Trans Connor, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 19:10:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedfrost/pseuds/gildedfrost
Summary: Connor invites Hank to his club for the evening.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Blue Light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889662
Comments: 8
Kudos: 137





	Entertainment

Hank climbs out of his ride into the cold November air, stuffing his hands in his pockets and keeping himself from hunching inward to conserve heat. The warm limo behind him drifts away soundlessly and he’s left at the curb outside the Blue Light Lounge, its neon sign casting the trademark color over his form.

It’s nothing like Jimmy’s, but he’s not here to get drunk. 

The interior is dim and cozy, all blues and purples and cheerful patrons dressed up in finery. He doesn’t pay much attention, only giving a wave to the bartender, someone he’s becoming more and more familiar with as the weeks go by.

He reaches a door at the back past the bathrooms, marked as Staff Only, and enters, descending. There’s another door one flight down where he swipes the card he’s been given, and at the bottom of the second flight, security greets him at the landing. They take his coat and pat him down, then let him through, entering a lounge that’s a near mimicry of the one upstairs. The difference, he knows, is that everybody here has something to hide. 

He straightens his tie, knowing that more than a few eyes have turned his way, and walks casually and with confidence. He knows he looks good in his new outfit, with a maroon jacket, black shirt, and white tie, and he’s even trimmed his beard and tied back his hair. He fits in perfectly. It’s a lighter crowd than he’d expect for a Friday, but he still wants to make a good impression, though he has to suppress a smirk at the thought of who he’s impressing: People whose lives he’s made a living hell of throughout his career, working hard to take them down for drug trafficking or other crimes. In that respect, he stands out, and he knows some of them--if they recognize him--will be curious why a police lieutenant is making nice with the mafia.

One man catches his eye, standing and saying something quietly to another. He looks exactly like Connor, but Hank’s learned by now how to identify the triplets apart. “Your boy’s here,” Sixty says, looking down at who is presumably Connor, though Hank can only see the back of his head from this side of the couch. He strides towards Hank, gives him a wink, and walks right past him, headed for the exit. Hank turns his head for only a moment before focusing on Connor, stopping by the arm of the sofa. 

“Lieutenant,” Connor says, looking up at him with a pleased expression. “I’m glad you could come. Sit.”

Hank takes a seat on the white sofa, left leg touching Connor’s own, and half-turns to admire Connor. The other man is dressed in his standard black suit and tie, sharp and perfectly fitted, and Hank can’t wait to get his hands all over him. “I couldn’t pass on an invitation from you,” he says. “How’ve you been?”

“This week’s gone well. Business as usual, you could say, with no unfortunate interruptions.” Connor gestures dismissively to the three people sitting across from them on the other side of the glass coffee table. “Give us a minute.”

It’s not a lot of privacy, considering the public nature of the place, but the others take their leave, giving the two of them some space. Connor immediately leans back, one arm across the back of the seat, brushing against Hank’s neck. “Kiss me.”

Hank chuckles, but does as he’s told, giving Connor a peck on the lips. “Not interested in just taking what you want?” he asks, still leaning close. “Or are you interested in putting on a show?”

“Maybe,” Connor says, “I just wanted a kiss from my boyfriend.”

The words are touching, as they are every time Connor calls him his boyfriend, but there’s something a little too self-assured about it. “Is that all? You sent a whole damn limo just to get a kiss delivered?”

Connor leans in to meet his lips again, clearly not patient enough to ask again. This time it’s hot and messy, his tongue soft and wet in Hank’s mouth and their noses and teeth bumping together as the two of them try to make up for a week’s worth of kisses in one go. Connor’s hands roam along his sides unashamedly and Hank returns the favor, tentatively at first and then with more confidence when he’s not pushed away. By the time they finally part, Hank is half-hard and both of their faces are flushed, and Connor looks absolutely delicious, lips swollen and hair just this side of messy. 

“Missed you too,” Hank says, settling in at his side. “So, when are we getting out of here?”

Connor laughs quietly. “I thought you had more patience than that, especially after I sent a ‘whole damn limo’ to pick you up.”

“And I thought we were gonna have a nice date, but it looks like you’re ready to get your hands all over me.”

“I do.” Connor thumbs at Hank’s jacket. “You should’ve worn your usual. I like when you look chaotic.”

He shrugs. “You said you had something special planned. I didn’t want to ruin it by being underdressed.”

“Oh, baby, you’re never underdressed. I make the rules here, you know.” Connor rests his arm across Hank’s shoulders, putting their heads close together. “You asked if I was putting on a show.”

“I did.” Hank raises an eyebrow. “There aren’t any dancers on the stage yet.”

“A show isn’t exactly the entertainment I had planned.” Connor grins, the expression sending a shiver of anticipation through Hank. “It’s a limited crowd tonight. Invite-only; security has the guest list and the system won’t let anyone else in.”

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s scheduled?”

“Us.”

Hank draws back, turning to look at his face clearly, and all he can see is Connor’s excitement. “Us?”

“Whatever we want to do, we can do it right here, right now.” Connor’s eyes slowly look over the room before snapping back to Hank’s face. “Everyone else is invited to watch or join, of course--without interrupting us--but it would be rude to start before the host. They’re behaving themselves so far.”

“...oh.” Hank’s not sure what to make of it. His cock is certainly interested, and he shifts slightly in his seat. It definitely explains the looks he’s been getting since he stepped in the room; anyone who didn’t recognize him might correctly assume he’s with Connor. “So you threw a sex party.”

“You’ve expressed interest in the fantasy before.” Connor hums. “We can go somewhere else if you’re not interested. The private rooms should be unoccupied, or I can call a limo, or—”

“No, no. I’m interested.” The words slip out of his mouth before he can think about them, and he decides he doesn’t really want to think about them. He’s never participated in any sort of group sex or orgy before, and it’s a strange thought, but he’ll do it. He’s already here, he might as well, and his cock’s already aching at the thought. “I just don’t know who the hell half these people are.”

“I can’t say I trust them, not in this business, but I know them all personally. They all have good reason to want my approval, and there shouldn’t be any with a grudge against you. I made sure to invite a lot of couples.”

“Of course you did,” Hank says. “And if I change my mind? See someone I don’t like or lose my nerve?”

“Then say red and we’ll get out of here.” Connor’s grin softens to a smile. “Same rules as always.”

He nods. “Okay, then I’m in.”

“Good.” Connor moves closer to him, sitting on his side on the couch, and palms at Hank’s erection with his free hand, feeling the bulge in his pants. The touch feels amplified in a place like this and Hank’s breath catches in his throat. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Get on your knees, Lieutenant.”

Hank slides off the couch when Connor gives him enough space to move and kneels between his spread legs, cheek rubbing against Connor’s clothed thigh. He looks up expectantly, awaiting orders. He knows Connor wants him--maybe both of them--on display, but he doesn’t want to overstep any unspoken boundaries. 

And right here, where he can feel eyes watching them, it’s a clear show of power for Connor to tell him exactly what to do.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Connor says, voice low and soft. “I want your mouth on my cock.”

Hank boldly presses his face forward to mouth at Connor’s crotch, his lips closing around the head of Connor’s cock. He can smell his arousal through the fabric of his pants, and it’s evident from the way the fabric moves that Connor’s already soaked, just as eager for this as Hank is. He looks up to meet Connor’s eyes and sucks hard, watching his eyelashes flutter from pleasure.

He slowly licks and sucks, taking his time and waiting for Connor to tell him to get on with it. He’s surprised he got this far, considering the mess that’s being made of his neat black slacks, but the order doesn’t come. Instead, Connor continues to watch him with an amused glint in his eyes, leaning back on the sofa while Hank does all the work. He loosens his tie and undoes the top button on his shirt, then the next, letting a hint of chest hair peek out from under the white cotton.

“Make me come like this,” Connor says thoughtfully. 

The words make Hank’s dick throb. He doubles his efforts, losing any consideration of modesty as he presses forward, taking Connor’s whole cock in his mouth and eliciting a sigh from the man above him. The fabric seems like it could be coarse and unpleasant, but there’s no hint that Connor is uncomfortable, and his crotch is soaked through in only a couple of minutes from the combination of Connor’s slick and Hank’s spit. 

It only takes one more look from Connor for Hank to take him all the way again and suck hard, tonguing at the head as he does and moaning quietly like he knows Connor likes. Connor tenses and his cock twitches as he comes, hips moving only slightly as the waves of pleasure wash through him.

Kneeling there with Connor’s cock resting in his mouth, Hank can hear that the atmosphere around them has changed. In his peripheral vision, nothing seems to be different, but the chatter from earlier has lowered into quiet murmuring and he could swear he hears the rustle of clothing from somewhere beyond their section.

Connor reaches forward to stroke his hair and Hank leans into his touch. It’s comforting and familiar, and brings with it an intimacy that extends beyond their activities here. The fingers threading through his hair are soothing, and soon the band holding his hair up is tossed away, letting Connor card his fingers through all of it.

Then Connor pushes his head away, just enough to make space, and he unzips his own pants, shimmying them down a couple inches and letting his cock spring loose. It’s a deep, pinkish-red color, glistening in the low blue lights of the lounge, with strands of slick between his cock and his lips. Hank watches Connor’s hole clench, his clear cum oozing out, and he can’t wait to taste it.

“Want a repeat performance?” Hank asks, grinning. He palms at his own cock, but a _tsk_ from Connor makes him pause.

A shiver runs through him as Connor’s shoe slides up against his cock and nudges his hand away. “Don’t touch yourself.” There’s pressure as Connor presses his shoe harder against him, but it isn’t painful. “I want you rock hard and desperate before you get any attention. Do you understand? Oh, thank you, Markus.”

The arrival of Markus--one of Connor’s more powerful allies, dressed in a sharp navy suit--makes Hank’s heart race. He’s brought them two glasses of iced water with cucumber slices, offering one to Connor and setting the other on the table. He looks over both of them with a slight smirk on his lips. “I thought you could use the refreshment. Keeping hydrated, and all. Have you seen Simon, by the way?”

Connor takes a long drink from the glass before leaning forward to set it on the table, and then his shoe does hurt, pressing into Hank for a few seconds before he leans back again and spreads his legs, giving him an expectant look and then turning back to Markus. “You two didn’t arrive together?”

Hank takes that as his cue to start up again. He laps at Connor’s velvety soft folds, cleaning up the tangy fluids and teasing his entrance with his tongue.

“He had some business with Nines,” Markus says, “who I assume is at another location. I’m not sure when they’re scheduled to conclude, but I wanted to make sure I haven’t missed him.”

It sounds like bullshit to Hank, just an excuse to stop by and see the show, but that’s part of the scene they’re playing right now. “If I see him before you, I’ll send him your way,” Connor says. He would look unaffected by everything except for the bright pink flush creeping across his face and neck. “I doubt he’ll be long.”

“He’s been looking forward to it. Well, I’ll be around. Good evening Connor, Lieutenant.” Markus nods at both of them and returns the way he came, his departure followed by a moan from Connor as Hank takes his still-sensitive cock in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it.

“Give me your fingers,” Connor says. “I want you to fill me up.”

“Mhm.” Hank keeps his lips and tongue moving. He slips two fingers into Connor’s hole, sliding in smoothly with little resistance, and slowly pumps them in and out, the pads of his fingers dragging against Connor’s upper walls. The sounds that fall from Connor’s lips are short and hushed, some of them blending in with the background noise of the lounge, but he’s clearly not taking any steps to hide his pleasure. They aren’t tucked away in a corner, and while nobody from the bar can see them, there are still a few parties with an unobscured view of them, not to mention the occasional person wandering past for one reason or another.

Neither is anyone else holding back, from the sounds of it; at least one other couple on the far side of the room is getting in the spirit of things without any shame. 

It feels so hedonistic and thrilling to be doing this right here in the open, where people are keeping up with friends and chasing business deals--or were, until things picked up a bit, but Hank wouldn’t put it beyond some of these people to continue talking as if everything going on were standard entertainment. There’s a part of him that feels like he should care what they think about him, too, but he’s stopped worrying about that lately. As long as Connor keeps looking at him like that, he’s good.

If any of this gets back to Fowler, he’ll say he’s just good at getting the mafia’s trust, making them think he’s their inside man. The captain doesn’t need to know it’s true.

He sucks and licks harder and moves his fingers faster, twisting and turning and hitting the spots he knows Connor likes. He adds a third finger and the moans get louder, making his cock ache while Connor enjoys all the attention. 

Connor laces his fingers in Hank’s hair again, gentle at first before pulling tightly and making his scalp sting. Hank keeps going, enjoying the sensation and eager to please, and it’s not long before Connor is coming again with a shout, hips moving in half-aborted thrusts. His fingers keep moving, keeping Connor stimulated, but he pops his mouth off Connor’s cock before the other man gets overwhelmed. 

Connor looks dazed this time and his shirt is beginning to look rumpled. The high of two orgasms must be getting to him, and suddenly Hank is concerned with his own situation, if he’s going to be left jerking himself to completion. (Not that he’d mind, with Connor watching, but he’s hoping Connor’s up for a third round.)

“Lieutenant,” Connor says, almost breathless. “You’re working hard tonight.”

“I’ve got people to impress. I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”

Connor pats Hank’s hand, which stills inside of him. “You’re doing well. Drink something.”

Hank pulls out and leans back, reaching for the water on the table with his clean hand. “Got any cocktails on the menu?”

“Why? Pussy not good enough for you?” Connor toes off his shoes and shimmies out of his slacks, letting them fall to the floor. The absence of underwear is something Hank noticed earlier, but it gives him a fresh thrill to realize it again, to know that Connor couldn’t wait to get Hank’s hands all over him.

Hank drinks, feeling refreshed from the cool water, and grins. “I’ve got a comeback for that, but I’m not sure I should say it.”

“Good choice. Come on.” Connor makes a gesture, waving Hank towards him. “Kiss me.”

Hank crawls onto the sofa with his legs on either side of Connor’s hips and kisses him, his tongue wet and needy against Connor’s own. He feels Connor’s shoulders before dragging his hands down his chest, feeling every inch of muscle beneath his hands. Connor’s soft enough to look kind and pleasing, but Hank knows he’s strong and flexible. He knows there’s tattoos under these clothes, and he’s almost tempted to take them off himself, but there’s something arousing about seeing the wrinkles he’s putting in Connor’s shirt and the tie all askew around his neck.

Connor squeezes his ass and Hank groans, grinding down against Connor’s belly, which ends with them parting and Connor placing a single finger on Hank’s lips. “Ah-ah,” Connor says. “Keep that up and we might need to get you a cage.”

“Think I’d even fit in one?”

“Let me handle the logistics of that.” Connor pats his cheek. “Right now there’s somewhere else you’d fit much nicer. Sit down and get ready.”

Hank resumes his seat next to him and doesn’t waste any time unzipping his pants, letting his cock out through the slit in his boxers and making sure not to touch himself any more than strictly necessary. At the same time Connor stands, waiting, and glances around the room. Hank can tell he’s pleased with what he sees. It still feels surreal, being in the middle of all this--not just a strange orgy, but surrounded by mafia and other criminals--but he doesn’t have much time to ponder as Connor climbs in his lap and sinks onto his cock.

Hank moans, residual nerves melting away as he’s pulled into a sheer blanket of pleasure. His hips thrust upwards into that tight, wet heat, Connor’s fluids generously coating his cock. Connor takes him to the hilt in one smooth motion and sits, keeping Hank’s hips still against the cushions.

“You’re going to stay still for me, Lieutenant,” Connor says, his chest flush with Hank’s, and Hank isn’t sure he’ll survive. “Sit nice and pretty so I can fuck myself on your cock. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” Hank groans.

Connor leans even closer, lips brushing Hank’s ear. “You good?”

“Green,” Hank says. “I’m better than good. Fuck.”

“Good.” Connor lifts his hips and begins riding him slowly, moving up to a steady pace. He moans quietly, reaching all the angles he likes, and Hank’s crotch is soon damp with Connor’s fluids, soaking into the fabric of his pants. 

Connor lowers his head, and his breath is hot against Hank’s neck when he pants and gasps. “Fuck,” Connor says. “You’re huge.”

“I know you can handle bigger,” Hank says, fighting to keep still, and Connor’s hips stutter at that. “I’ve seen all your toys. You’re insatiable, you know that? Bet you could even take my whole hand. Think you’ve even got a limit?”

That has Connor sitting upright again, putting his nose right up against Hank’s, pupils dilated. “We’re going to have a date, Hank Anderson,” he says, voice low. He speeds up the pace and brings one of Hank’s hands to his crotch, where Hank begins to rub him with his thumb. “You, me, and a whole bottle of lube.”

“I’d better get my stretches in.”

“Yes.” Connor leans forward and slows down, wrapping his arms around Hank. “Now, fuck me.”

Once the order breaches he haze of Hank’s mind, he complies. He snaps his hips upward, delighting in the _ah_ that falls from Connor’s mouth. He knows exactly what Connor likes, and that’s what he does: Hard, fast, and deep. They move from the leisurely, sensual pleasure of Connor’s riding to the pounding of Hank’s hips against his, the sounds of their coupling only somewhat muffled by the clothing between them.

Connor bites his lower lip and moans wantonly, losing himself as Hank gives him all he’s got. All other thoughts vacate Hank’s mind, caught up in the intensity and adrenaline of thrusting deep into Connor’s leaking hole, his slickness and clenching driving Hank wild. Hank pounds into him until he’s got nothing left, his hips losing their rhythm as pleasure overwhelms him, and he comes with a growl, giving a few more measured thrusts as is balls throb and he spills into his lover. 

Only a moment later Connor’s coming with him, his walls massaging Hank’s cock deliciously with his third orgasm. Connor rides him through it until neither of them can take it any longer, and then he rolls off to slouch beside him, cum leaking from his hole.

The two of them sit there in a daze, the sounds of music and sex in the background as they catch their breath.

“I didn’t bring a change of pants,” Hank mumbles.

Connor waves his hand. “I packed you some spare clothes. They’re in the back,” he says, sounding about as coherent as Hank feels. 

Hank grunts. “I feel like jelly.” 

“Same.” Connor looks up at the ceiling. “Want to eat your cum out of me?”

“God, Con, three in a row and you’re still going?”

“Nope. I’m all fucked out. I just think it’d be hot.”

Hank chuckles. “Maybe next time.”

There’s a glint in Connor’s eyes when he turns to face Hank. “Maybe next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you liked :)
> 
> Find me on twitter @gildedfrost (18+)


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